The Secrets We Hide
by Levi'sBabyDaddy
Summary: Ayame Hatake moved in with her older brother for reasons no one knew but herself. The secrets about their family, what they had done, she felt needed to be kept to herself. But as it turns out, Kakashi has secrets of his own. Especially about the family. Then she runs into 6 feet of tall, dark, and sexy. Soon she discovers that everyone had a deadly secret of their own...
1. Pilot

_We struggle to have meaning/ In this world which we all know/ We try but yet we ponder/ where we all should go/ hidden in the questions/ which we cannot find/ the answers are all hidden/ deep inside our minds/ hidden in our soul/ is the life we try to hide/ but in time it will find you/ and it will release/ all of it's secrets hidden beneath..._

The yellow cabbie roared down the quiet road that was nestled in the woods, a paved forest path barely big enough for a car and littered with leaves. A young girl of about 15 sat in the backseat, curled up with her head leaned against the window, her feet curled in the seat by her side. She watched the trees fly by, wondering if the speed the man in the driver's seat was going was alright, and she was slightly afraid they'd crash. She sighed softly, blinking at the bright coloured birds that flew in the opposite direction. The beats of the bass from her headphones softly filled the silence in the car as they traveled towards the city. The girl was moving to the other side of Japan to live with her brother. When the incident happened that involved her parents, she was taken from her home immediately and to the hospital. She was there for almost 3 weeks, before being told by her "worker" that she was moving to the other side of Japan to live with her brother. The problem was, she hadn't seen her brother since he moved out, almost 4 years ago. She didn't really know how she was supposed to survive living on her own with her brother after all this time. When they were little, the two siblings were as close as two children could be, even living seven years apart. But when he up and left the day of his eighteenth birthday, it was like she didn't exist, and he was never apart of the small family they had. She was left as an 11 year old girl, a parent's hand on either shoulder with know idea of all the troubles she would face in the years ahead.

She didn't know how exactly she was supposed to feel about seeing him after all these years. She was nervous, sure, but the emotions that mixed within her were just as confusing as ninth grade biology. Ever since that day when he left, she continuously thought of him, worrying and hoping. Hoping that one day he'd come back, and worrying that he'd be unable to make it out there on his own. The only reassurance she got of his safety was a postcard in the mail on her birthday and Christmas, always a measly gift as if an apology, and a good wish with no return address. She wasn't sure if she resented him, or if she was feeling like her young self, who just wanted to be loved by her brother, and lived to see him smile. Whatever would happen, and whatever she felt, it would be sure to come out when she saw him, finally.

The narrow road winded around a huge tree, and it seemed so out of place in the forest of trees that were a fifth of it's size. It reminded her of the redwood trees of a state in that American country. It was this year that she was supposed to learn about the great freedom country, and she didn't know much of it, though she excelled in the English language. As the cabbie approached the city she was to live in, her eyes widened. Knife Party exploded into the back of the car as she removed a headphone to stare in wonder at the giant walls that surrounded the city. She knew that this city has some important people, but honestly, did the prime minister live here? She didn't see the point of the giant, faded green gate doors to match the thick walls that flew from left to right, as if they were in a race to see who'd meet each other first on the other side.

The cabbie finally slowed down at the doors, which was a surprise to her. They'd been going full speed ahead ever since they left civilization. The surprising speed was so different than it was in the city, she almost went for her sword. Her competition sword that is. She didn't know why she wanted to bring it along, instead of packing it with the rest of her gear in the trunk. Maybe she wanted to prove to her brother that his leaving didn't affect her that much, that she was still keeping up with her practice. Or maybe it made her feel safe.

She watched in wonder as only a section of the doors opened automatically, and the driver moved forward -at a safe speed- through the winding roads of the city. It was interesting, the city. The entrance looked like the biggest farmer's market she'd ever seen. It even looked like there was a ramen stand, and, oh, dango! She smiled, breathing in deep and closing her eyes, exhaling at the start of Lindsey Sterling. As the car moved, she winced, raising a hand to block the glint of the sun off a shiny skyscraper. The market and humble buildings quickly escalated into neighborhoods and, well, city. She quickly replaced her headphone as the driver suddenly turned into a neighborhood. The houses weren't crowded together, but weren't so far apart. They were on raised green hills cut through with concrete stairs and walkway. The houses looked like they were built for everyday families, happy couples with smiling kids and a scruffy dog named Max. Well into the neighborhood, the cabbie finally pulled into a driveway of a two story house made of a dead gray paint, and shades of red brick that lined the bottom feet of the wood. A dark wooden porch jutted out of the house, a few plants and a swing decorated it, but it didn't seem that that porch was used much. The girl took a deep breath as the front door opened, and out he stepped, just as he was when he left. She grabbed her bag and her sword and stepped out of the car, calming herself to the sound of Electric Daisy Violin.

Out of the house stepped out a tall man. He was about 5'9" with sun deprived skin, a relaxed posture, and soft silver hair that stood up on end. He wasn't old, only 22, but his face was weathered as if he'd seen more than he ever should. He stood with his hands in the pocket of his jeans, and he wore a long sleeved gray shirt, complete with a black scarf that covered up to his nose. He wore dark gray vans under his jeans to complete his look. He walked to the back of the car and took the larger of the two suitcases hidden there. It was then that she appeared, coming to the back of the car. Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back and fluttered around her waist. She sported a light gray sweater, the sleeves taken prisoner in her white knuckles. She had on a short black pleated skirt, cotton thigh highs and a pair of shiny black high top All Star's, just like always. He could hear her music from here, not something he would have expected of her, but made sense anyways. Her eyes, those beautiful lilac eyes that were always sparkling where swarming. They moved from sadness to happiness to longing to hatred and everything in between. He smiled softly at the sight of her sword, his black eyes exposing it when she took out a single ear bud, the screams of some band he'd never heard of trickling through the exposed speaker. "Ayame."

She looked at him, her expression freezing over. "Kakashi," her voice caught at the end and her sword shook in her hands. "Kakashi," she repeated. Her eyes finally glossed over with the sadness of an eleven year old girl, whose best friend walked away from her and never looked back. He set down the suitcase and held out his arms. Her canvas bag slipped from her shoulder with a thump and she flew towards him, the sword clanging on the driveway with a clatter as Ayame barreled into his chest, shaking with a force to move mountains. He held her tight, stroking her hair and shushing her. All he'd wanted for the past four years was to hold her again, to see her smile and hear her laugh. He'd never been able to, only barely managed to send her those cards.

Kakashi pulled back and his eye smiled softly. "Come, let's get you inside." Ayame sniffed in agreement, picking up her discarded items. She pulled her sword gear from the back and inserted her sword inside. Taking the smaller suitcase, she handed the driver a fifty from all the miles he had driven. He nodded, making a routine run through of the taxi before driving off. Kakashi again picked up the larger suitcase and swiped her gear off her shoulder in one swift motion, heading up to the house. He looked back to see Ayame standing there, staring at him. "Coming?" he laughed. She blinked, shook her head as if to clear it and responded, dragging her suitcase up the hill. He shook his head, smiling knowingly and walked inside the house, closing the door with a final thud.


	2. Home

Ayame gasped at the interior of the house. The wooden floors were cherry stained, and the walls were a cream. The base boards that matched the floors ran along the top and bottom, also lining the doors. The entry hall couldn't even be considered a hall. There was a small coat closet to her left, and a small, thin table to her right and a mirror above it. A few step forwards to sudden expanse of living area. A cream sofa with a matching chair sat in front of a wide screen television, sitting atop of a short movie case in the corner. There was even a gray stone fireplace. The living area paned right to a bar, or basically an arching hole in the wall to see into the kitchen. Around the side, facing her was an archway, the baseboards around it was a traditional Japanese style arch to make the simple arch more beautiful. It was a modest kitchen, nice counter tops, nice cabinets, and a well sized island, complete with bar stools. It was anything better than she ever had, and she liked it too.

Kakashi smiled, looking back at her. "Can you carry that upstairs?"

She looked at him, her purple eyes that had once a moment ago shown emotion now hardened and turned to ice. The man smiled and shrugged, picking up the bags with ease, carrying it up the stairs and disappearing down the hall. With a set determination, she heaved the bag, supporting it against her shoulder, carrying it up the stairs. Upstairs looked the same as it did downstairs. It was a long hall, with three white doors on the left and two at the right, a smaller door at the very end that looked like it could be a linen closet. Kakashi waited for her in the middle, looking relaxed as ever and leaning against the suitcase, as if he'd been there for ages, waiting.

"First door on your left I use as a common room or whatever. Door to your right is my room," he was pointing to each voice as he spoke monotonously. He lazily pointed towards his right. "This door is the bathroom, and the one next to it is a bedroom. On the other side here is another one, a bit bigger than that other one, I think. It may even have it's own bathroom. . .or that's mine. . ." He frowned, scratching his head with a finger. Ayame raised a skeptical eyebrow, but said nothing. "In any case, choose a bedroom, the other can be a guest room, or whatever." He raised a dismissive hand, getting up from the suitcase. "You're furniture should arrive around 7 or so-" he was interrupted by a knock from downstairs. He sighed, put his hands in his pockets and started to make his way downstairs, mumbling something about a clock. "Better choose your room, movers are here!" he called.

As Kakashi talked to the movers, she went into the two empty rooms he had mentioned. Why did one man even need three bedrooms? The first one, on the left, was a simple bedroom, it was bare and a little dusty, with a small closet and only one window. Though it had nothing in it, had a lush carpet instead of a wooden floor. She immediately decided that this was not the room she wanted.

The other room was a lot better. Though it's walls were an empty white, along with the baseboards, it had a mattress in the corner and thin curtains on the wall that looked like bed sheets. The doors to the closet were pretty, traditional sliding Japanese paper doors. It was spacious, but it didn't have a bathroom like her brother said. It had two windows, one looking out to a giant tree. This room looked like it was used recently, maybe last week or so, but it didn't look like it was used regularly, on account of only a stripped mattress thrown into the corner. With a final nod, Ayame rolled her suitcases into the closet, so they'd be out of the way of the movers.

As if on cue, her brother knocked on the door, the movers behind him. "So, is this the room you chose then?" he smiled. He entered, his smile a raging force against her cold face as he picked up the mattress from the floor, letting the movers set her disassembled bed frame down with a solid _thud_. "I'll help you rearrange later. Once the movers bring up everything, we're going out for dinner. Sound like fun?" He gave a short laugh, and left with his hands in his pockets.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Ayame flopped on her bed with an elongated sigh. They had gone out to a fancy Hibachi restaurant, where the chef had called her pretty and tried to impress her like he did with all the girls. The only words she had spoken the whole time was her order and nothing else, rejecting every chance her brother tried to be nice with a cold look. Guess that's how she feels about this all. At least he helped set up her room. Her bed was in the back corner where the mattress had previously been, big enough to fit two people comfortably, there's just enough space between the wall and the bed for someone to walk through. Her lamp sat on the simple bed stand beside her, and a looming bookshelf next to it. On the opposite wall, her desk sat, as empty as it ever been. Various boxes of books and smallish furniture were piled in the corner, waiting to be unpacked. She didn't like the white walls that surrounded her, and her brother said they could look for paint her room that weekend.

Ayame sighed and crawled under the covers. She couldn't believe this was real. . .that this was happening. . .at least she wasn't back at home. "This is my home now. . ." she whispered. She hugged her pillow, curling around it. Despite all of her belongings here, despite being in her favorite pajamas and doing her nightly routine, she still felt so out of place. It all felt so unreal. She had been looking over her shoulder the whole day, dreading to see a glimpse of silver hair or a gleam of lilac eyes. She thought she almost saw them, once today. She had stopped dead in her tracks, her heart thumping in her chest. Her brother knocked her out of it with a hand on her shoulder, casting a worried glance. Thankfully, he didn't push the matter, and simply gone on with his conversation earlier.

Ayame shook, those faces seared behind her eyelids. Everything. . .everything there. Racing through her mind. With every passing moment she waited for that door to open, for the light to shatter the darkness and illuminate her petrified face. She waited for the melodic voices to whisper false proclaims of love and security, for the hands to grab her. . .

Kakashi stood at Ayame's door, his hand frozen in a knock. She could hear her crying and turning about the sheets. She was having a nightmare. Her social worker claimed these may occur, and that she should be given a counselor if she showed any signs of depression. But the problem was, he didn't know his little sister well enough to know if she was acting strange. His other fist was clenched, his nails digging into his skin. He didn't know how to help her. She hated him. She couldn't even look at him unless she had to. Four years he hadn't spoken to her. "Four years. . ." he whispered. Finally, his hand dropped and he walked away, shutting the door quietly to his room. Could she ever forgive him?


	3. Great

"Today is the first day of school, it's time to get up." Ayame Hatake woke to the muffled sound of her brother's voice as he called to her. She'd been there for almost two weeks. Nothing really happened in that time. She'd unpacked almost completely, just her posters and pictures for the wall waiting to be hung up, she was waiting until after she painted her walls though. Whenever she wasn't unpacking, she was curled up in her bed, rereading her countless books, or at her window, painting the birds. Kakashi offered to drive her to school that day, but she said she'd rather take the bus instead. The less time she had to spend with him the better.

She hopped from the bed, her bare feet hardly making a sound. She decided on her outfit yesterday, not wanting to take too much time on it in the morning. She choose it cautiously, not sure exactly what people her age dressed around here. She wore the first band merch she'd ever gotten, a Pierce the Veil shirt, long sleeve, black skinny jeans and knee high black converse. Her hair was braided into two pigtails, one braided over her left shoulder and another behind her back. She sighed as she tugged on the hem of her shirt, which could have been a short dress if she liked, like the ones they'd wear in those animes. She draped her canvas bag around her shoulders and grabbed her wallet and keys. She remembered when Kakashi had given her the house key. She held it in her hand, the metal cold. He'd appeared at her door while she was writing, the key in his hand like a first place ribbon.

She shook her head, shaking the memory from her eyes and glanced at the clock. She was going to be late. With a hurried look, she flew down the stairs and yanked an apple from the basket on the island. But just as she turned to flee the house, Kakashi was there, holding a plate of finished food. She gasped, dunking under his arms just in time. "Better be careful," he smirked. "Oh, and the house is yours today. Meeting at work, wont be home until late. I'll leave take out info on the counter." She simply nodded, running out the door. She arrived at the bus stop just in time, as the bus was just around the corner. She was bent slightly at the waist from running four blocks. Wimpy, I know, but she wasn't that fit. Ayame was the type of girl who'd rather sketch than play sports.

She bus jerked to a squeaky stop in front of her, making her wonder if she should have taken up her brother's offer. The doors opened with a groan, revealing a slinky man with oily looking black hair. He looked like an ACDC reject, skin so white, there's no way it could have been natural, and the strangest eye make up she'd seen. He spoke like a snake, "Coming pretty girl? I don't have all day." She nodded apologetically and stepped on the bus. It was like a high school nightmare. There were loud kids in the back, throwing paper at the back of some boy's head, another one that sat next to him looking like he was going to punch one of them. A cluster of popular girls doing their make up and blowing up two whole rows of pink. The quiet ones sat in the front, some with headphones. The bus then jerked forward, sending her stumbling. She would have ran into the pink palooza before a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her into the seat. It was a boy with hair so dark she could have described it as the soul of an antagonist in one of her books. His eyes were just as dark, both a sudden contrast against his paper-coloured skin. The hand that held her arm was tight, his paleness a misgiving for how warm his hand was, the nails painted black. Her wore a simple black sweater with the sleeves pushed up above his elbows -Kami knows how he manages to make it stay there- and black skinny jeans. His black high tops were entangled in her feet from the sudden motion. He had pulled her so hard, probably misjudging her weight (she was lighter than she appeared), that the head phones around his neck was now digging into her collar bone, her hand on the window that had flown to stop them from colliding any farther. She pulled back as he let her go, her face a bit flushed from embarrassment.

"Thanks," she said over the roar. He simply nodded, pulling on his headphones. Her canvas bag in her lap, she rubbed at the red mark on her neck. She was worried it'd leave a bruise, but she sighed anyhow, plugging in her beats and turning up the bass.

Ayame followed the hanging signs to her English 2 class, her white braids bouncing. She'd gotten her schedule from a busty, loud woman. They, unfortunately, did not have the music program she'd signed up for, so instead she was supposed to help out in the library as a T.A. It wasn't so bad, she'd be around books, so that was something. It was the first class of the day, and the hardest. Just as she turned the corner, she was wiped out, the contents of her bag flying across the hall and her head hitting the lockers hard. "Sorry lady! I'd help you pick all this up, but I'm late!" She only saw a blur of orange pass her by before it disappeared, leaving her to pick up his mess. She groaned, holding her head.

"That's going to be a nasty headache." It was a teacher, holding out an extended hand.

She took it, letting her haul her up. She stood, slightly dizzy as he handed her papers and a binder. "Thanks...erm.."

"Iruka," He smiled that smile that her brother did, but for some reason it didn't tick her off as much.

"Arigato, Iruka-sensei, but I must go. Bye!" She gave a small bow before she ran to the end of the hall at the sign of the minute bell, quickly sliding into the corner seat in the back. She'd just put everything back in order when she felt someone slide into the desk beside her. It was the same boy as before, the one on the bus. He dropped his back on the floor by his chair, sliding into his seat. She turned away just as the teacher popped in. He had bright blue hair and a winning smile, at least, those were two of the three things you'd notice about him. The other was the line, a scar, that stretched from above his right eyebrow, to the turn of his left cheek. She shivered, not wanting to know how he could have gotten such a thing.

"Hey gang! I'm Otashi-sensei, nice to meetcha! This is English 2, hope you know that, or you're in the wrong class!" He chuckled, sitting on his desk. "Now, what's the _worst_ thing a teacher can do on the first day of school? Assign a project! We're going to skip the whole week of boring get-to-know-crap and you will do that yourselves. I'll assign you to a partner, then you two must use the next two weeks getting to know each other." Ayame sighed, starting to sketch in her notebook. Halfway through the drawing she heard, "You, in the back. The one doodling." She looked up at him, covering her art. "You'll be paired with him, there." He pointed to her rescuer from the bus, who was slouched in his chair, arms crossed. He gave her a look that put the ones she gave her brother to shame. She sighed softly, nodding and returning to her doodle. _This should be fun._

At the end of class, a folded piece of paper landed on her desk. She sat back down in her seat and opened it. It read:

996-841-0892

Sasuke

She shrugged, inputting the text in her phone, saving it to her short list of contacts.

The rest of the school day went by quickly. She ate lunch outside, shelved books in the library, and was given a test for art to see how much she knew. That was homework. As she waited for the bus, her phone rang in her pocket.

**Kakashi:**

**3:45 pm**

**22/8/14**

**Don't forget I have a meeting at work today. Wont be home until late. Take out info on counter. Have fun :)**

**Me:**

**3:47 pm**

**22/8/14**

**k**

She sighed, almost returning her phone to her pocket when she had an idea. She had a project right? And he rode her bus so...

**Me:**

**3:47 pm**

**22/8/14**

**Hey it's Ayame, your partner for English. I thought we could start on the project tonight and order take out. You in?**

She really hoped that didn't sound like she was asking him on a date. As she walked towards bus number 27, her phone rang. Sliding into an empty seat, she checked it.

**Sasuke:**

**3:49 pm**

**22/8/14**

**no**

She frowned at the screen as the dark clothed asshole walked by her and dropped in the seat by the emergency exit. Annoyed, she sent:

**Me:**

**3:50 pm**

**22/8/14**

**Look, I don't like this anymore than you do. I just want to get this project done, then you can get back to your mysterious dark side wonder boy act, okay?**

She could feel his eyes rolling. The pink patrol flowed in and swarmed around Sasuke.

As the last pink skirt found a seat the bus started forward. Her fingers danced on her thighs angrily and she bit the inside of her cheeks. Suddenly the bus stopped just as her phone rang, sending it out of her hands and under the seat in front of her with a cry. She bent down to reach for it when a gentle hand tapped her shoulder.

A girl was the one who held her phone in her hands. Her long black hair flowed over pale shoulders -lots of pale people in this town- and lavender eyes smiled warmly, though nervousness was sewn into almost every other feature. Her loose shirt didn't seem loose enough to hide the big breasts she sported. "Here," she said softly. With a blush, Ayame nodded. What? Girls can't find girls attractive too?

"Thanks," she nodded, sitting back in her seat. The girl smiled again and sat forward, leaning against the window. She looked down at her nearly forgotten phone. Sasuke had messaged her.

**Sasuke:**

**3:54**

**22/8/14**

**what use do I have in knowing you?**

About to give him a piece of her mind, pinks or not, she turned -but he was gone.

_**A/N**_

_**SORRY FOR NOT POSTING. I KINDA GOT IN A CAR CRASH AND I GOT OUT A FEW WEEKS AGO. I've been catching up on some homework I've missed. Also, in case you didn't notice, I redid some thing a bit. o3o I recommend going through and re-reading, or at least this chapter! **_


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